


the men who stare at goats

by supervoid



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, College, London, M/M, Molly is Will's Sister, POV Will Graham, Special Forces Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Has Powers, genius will graham
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supervoid/pseuds/supervoid
Summary: Some people travel the world to find themselves; Will Graham travels to escape himself.When an incident reveals Will's psychic abilities, a unique faction of the military assigns Special Forces sergeant Hannibal Lecter as his handler.The mission is to protect and observe Graham from the shadows. Sergeant Lecter must determine if he can be recruited, or if his existence is too great a threat to go unchecked.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. The Empath

The museum is a claustrophobic mingling of tourists, enthusiastic guides, and mildly inattentive school children on a field trip. Will Graham sits alone on a bench in the center hall, trying to tune out the furor of the living and focus on the dead.

He studies the intricate bronze tablet display along the wall across from his perch, wondering how far back he could realistically focus.

His mind replays the story his host family in Nigeria had once told about the artifacts being stolen from their land hundreds of years ago, now displayed audaciously among the many other stolen objects that made up the British Museum.

Will slowly releases the breath from his lungs and his eyes close as the pendulum begins to swing in his mind. The modern hall begins to vanish around him, the drum of voices old and young fading with it. In the dark and quiet, warm energy radiates from above, and with every swing of the pendulum, his surroundings reach out to him in greater detail. The smell of earthy fields was the first to hit his senses. His skin basked in the radiant heat from the sun and his chest rattled from the sound of beating drums, nearly keeping pace with the drum of his heart. Will could hear someone whispering to him in an unfamiliar language, their breath hot on his ear.

A focused intent to kill suddenly began to press on the edges of his mind, interrupting his vision. Murderous urges affected Will more than anything else, for reasons he didn’t want to even begin to think about. It was impossible to tune out.

Will abruptly pulls his consciousness to the present and blinks rapidly to reacquaint himself with his surroundings. A young boy, no older than ten, stood with his back to Will as he examined the tablets with mild interest. He wore expensive clothes but shoulders slumped forward in an expression of bad posture, as though trying to sink into himself. He gave off a shy, insecure aura, nothing that suggested violent intent.

Will frowned, trying to hone in on the origin of the murderous radiation lapping at his mind. He peered over the edge of his glasses, scanning the room for the source. He shifts easily through the mundane thoughts of the general public before narrowing in on a man in a trenchcoat standing indiscriminately in the corner of the hall. The man did not catch Will’s awareness. He was too focused on the kid in front of him. Tuning into the man's vibration is as easy as dipping his foot into a pool. Will tenses in grim realization as he enters the waters of his mind. There was no doubt the man intended to kill the boy, for reasons Will couldn't feel on the surface. But the intent was undeniable. 

For a moment Will was frozen in panic. It would be easy to avoid intervention with no awareness of malicious intent. But Will didn’t have the luxury of ignorance.

Will tenses in a moment of indecision as the man slowly begins to approach their exhibit, his boots connoting death in every stride. The boy fiddles with something in his pocket, unaware of the killer reaching into his coat to expertly slip what Will knew to be a gun into his gloved hand as he closed the distance.

Will acts on a rapid impulse to put himself between the man and the child about to be murdered. He briefly considers the options surrounding him before settling on the closest blunt object. He rips a Moroccon instrument from its pedestal and advances on the man as he pulls the gun from his coat. The instrument comes down on the man’s hand with a brutal crunch as he pulls the trigger. A bullet ricochets off the tablet a few feet away from the boy, Will’s surprise intervention having knocked it off of its intended target.

The sudden gunshot echoing through the marble hall sends the museum occupants into a blind panic, screaming and stampeding for the nearest exit. The boy, now painfully aware of his mortality, whips around in fear. His wide eyes catch Will's as his attacker regains his balance. The man snarls from the pain of his crushed hand and drops the gun to the floor, but not before sliding a deadly looking knife from his trenchcoat to his good hand. 

_Good lord, how many weapons does this guy have-_

This was the last thought Will had before the knife was swiftly turned on him. The man plunges the blade into his abdomen and guts him with brutal efficiency. Three gunshots ring out and the man recoils from the unseen impact. Will drops to the ground as he puts pressure on his stomach to keep his insides from spilling out. His vision swims surprisingly fast. The marble is cool against his face as he bleeds out, his stubbled face already soaked with blood. 

The boy he saved is the last mind to touch Will's empathy as he loses consciousness.

Guilt grips his heart as he fades from awareness. 


	2. No Good Deed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the first chapter was so short. This chapter sets up the story a bit more and the next chapter will introduce Hannibal. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Will opened his eyes to light reflecting off the ripples of a shallow river. The river caressed his legs as it flowed around him, carrying shiny fish and sparkling flecks of dust from the riverbed along with it. This was Will’s mind palace, a comforting retreat from the perils of the physical. Over time it had become so immersive that he couldn’t recall what unpleasantness from reality had led him to it. It was a peaceful reprieve he never wanted to leave.

Through the veil, an incessant beeping sound began to ring in his ear, growing louder with each passing moment until it drowned out the sounds of nature. Suddenly the riverbed holding his feet vanished and Will was sucked into the sudden river depths. He tried to resist the force dragging him down, kicking desperately to bring his head above water. But the rippling light from the sun departed quickly as he sank deeper into the cold darkness of the void. Will’s vision fades with the light and he mourns the loss of his brief moment of peace before he stops resisting. The moment he allows the cold darkness to consume him, his consciousness is thrust back into the physical. 

The feeling in his body returns all at once. The wound in his stomach flares up with his consciousness, sending sharp pulses of pain up through his chest. The pulse shocks him awake and he quickly lifts himself to a sitting position, gasping for breath. The beeping from his dream suddenly blares loudly through the room and a nurse bursts in a few moments later. She briefly pauses in surprise before rushing to his bedside to calm Will's sputtering breaths. 

"Easy there honey you'll rip your sutures." She places a firm hand on his back to steady him. 

Will counts to ten in his head and tries to control his breathing. He gradually releases his death grip on the hospital sheets as his heart slows to a normal pace. 

"I'm relieved to see you awake. You've been unconscious for five days." The nurse looks at him sympathetically. "Do you remember how you got here, Mr. Graham?"

Will stares blankly at the wall as his brain shakes off the dust of unconsciousness. Images come back to him in fuzzy detail. 

"I remember the man in the museum...he tried to shoot a kid." Will pauses to find the words. "I tried to stop him and he stabbed me." 

His heart drops in concern. "The kid, is he ok? I - I remember hearing more gunshots before I passed out." 

"You saved his life." The nurse assures him. "The gunshots you heard were from the officers on duty. They were able to disarm the man who attacked you before he could hurt anyone else." 

Will's let his head drop in relief. 

"You almost died. Don't take what you did lightly." The nurse draws back as Will settles into the bed. "There are some people who would love to speak with you now that you're awake. But only if you're feeling up for it. The doctor will need to check on you first." 

Will does a quick self-assessment before responding. "I think I'll be ok." He frowns skeptically. "But who wants to speak with me?"

He didn't have any medical contacts and he couldn't think of anyone in London who would want to visit him. The cops maybe?

"Nothing you need to worry about. Someone will be in soon to update you." The nurse smiles cryptically before she excuses herself to inform his doctor. 

A kind-looking man named Dr. Fell checks in on him not long after. He briefs Will on his condition and schedule for recovery. He would be in the hospital for another week at least and would be on a strict diet while his wound healed. He is put on a regular schedule for pain meds and Will felt his gut twinge in relief. Dr. Fell calls in the nurse from before to administer the first dose before he leaves. 

The drugs have him knocked out almost immediately. Will falls into a dreamless sleep this time and revels in the brief freedom from pain. 

When he wakes again, there is a woman sitting quietly at his bedside, deeply engrossed in a spread of files in her lap. Will clears his throat and she raises her head in surprise and greets him with a warm smile. 

“Hello, Will. How are you feeling?” 

She offers him a glass of water and he accepts gratefully. He downs it quickly and his head tingles from the cool hydration. Will lets the last drops of water drip down his chin as he turns to the woman. She looked familiar in a way he couldn’t quite place. 

“Are you my doctor?” 

The woman smiles in amusement and shakes her head. “I am _a_ doctor, but I’m not your doctor, no.” She offers him a hand adorned in intricate rings. “My name is Alana Bloom. The boy you saved was my son.” 

Will isn’t sure what to say. His empathy is momentarily overwhelmed by Alana’s radiant gratitude. His half-formed response hangs on his lips as she continues. 

“His name is Morgan Verger.” 

_Verger._

Will’s eyes widened. _Oh-_

The name resonates in his mind and he finally makes the connection. 

“Verger? As in - Margot Verger’s family?”

Alana nods. “Margot is my partner.” 

The Vergers were to Europe what the Rockefellers were to America. They were old money so naturally, they had their hands in the foundation of any and all economic powerhouses that fashioned European society. In the global era, a figurehead of one world power affected all. And despite Will’s best effort to bury his head in the sand from the wheels of politics, he was well aware of the Vergers and their entanglements. 

“You work for the British government.” Will states with conviction.

Alana smiles and folds her hands in her lap. “What gave me away?”

“Not that I don’t believe in the power of love but I find it hard to believe that a Verger matriarch would partner someone without some significant power to contribute to their empire.” He narrows his eyes skeptically. “Forgive me as I’m clearly not British and in general I tend towards political ignorance. But if you’re not part of the gratuitous royalty then naturally you must be one of the actual authorities.”

Alana looks mildly impressed. “I work for MI6.” She confirms, opening the file from earlier and flipping open the first page. “Which is how I was able to learn so much about you, Will Graham.”

Will does his best to maintain his composure but inside his anxiety simmers. 

“Is that so?”

Alana reads through the file in her lap. “I see you spent the last seven years busy traveling anywhere that would let you in. Your records show you spent time volunteering for different host families and charities in exchange for housing and food in several different countries. While your service and worldliness are admirable, it’s not what one might expect from a candidate who was accepted into ivy leagues across the board.” Alana rests her head on her chin as she picks him apart. “You were accepted into Harvard, Oxford, MIT-” She pauses as she goes down the list. “And yet you decided to forgo university in favor of leaving the States. You’re clearly gifted. Why did you choose to leave your opportunities behind?”

Will laughs but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is the thought of entertaining broke travels really so much less acceptable than shelling out money to a university in the hopes to one day join the corporate hounds?” 

Alana considers him for a moment. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but something tells me you didn’t choose this out of simple charitable nature.” 

“Glad you don’t peg me as a saint. How boring that would make me.”

“Are you finding yourself or escaping yourself?”

“Is self-realization not simply a focused escape from ideals that have been thrust upon you?” Will counters, speaking with more confidence than he feels. “Is there a reason you feel the need to dig into my mundane life, Dr. Bloom?” 

Alana sighs, brushing the dark hair out of her face. “My son isn’t usually found without a protection detail. Despite its necessity, the smothering lifestyle isn’t good for kids his age. He likes to pretend he is normal, if even for a moment. If he gets a chance, he’ll make an effort to slip their watch.” Alana’s expression falls into a grim frown. “His bodyguard was found dead behind the museum not long after you were attacked. He was covertly killed in the minutes after Morgan managed to slip away. He hid the body before he came for my son.” 

Will feels uncomfortable meeting her gaze. His fingers tug at a loose piece of fabric from the hospital sheets. 

“You knew he was going after Morgan.” Alana leans forward, her body language challenging him. “I watched the tapes, I was there for the statements. You were there to interfere at the precise moment he tried to murder my son. If you were his bodyguard I would admire your advanced awareness and quick action. But as a simple bystander, with no known relation to our family or the assailant, I couldn’t help but be curious.”

The heart monitor betrays Will’s tension. He didn’t enjoy being psychoanalyzed on a good day and Dr. Bloom was treading into dangerous territory. 

“Let’s leave it at being perceptive, shall we? Maybe I just didn’t want to take the chance of being wrong and let a kid get shot.” He snaps defensively. It came out with more malice than he intended. 

“My apologies. I really didn’t come here to integrate you, Will.” Alana suddenly slaps the files closed. “I came to thank you for saving my son. You nearly died and Morgan wouldn’t be alive right now if you hadn’t done what you did. I assure you we don’t take this lightly.” 

She passes a smaller file to him and he hesitates for a moment before accepting it. “Between Margot and I’s involvement in business and government, we’re somewhat masters in the art of pulling strings. I reached out to all the universities you were accepted to earlier and they would love to have you enroll when you’re ready. We set up a fund for you as well, so you won’t have to worry about debt. I wouldn’t want to pressure you into any big life decisions but this was the best way, given what I could learn about you, to share our gratitude.” 

Will sifts through the small stack of acceptance letters before revealing a check with a very intricate looking Verger seal embellished across the front. He nearly faints as his brain registers the amount listed.

“I- I don’t know what to say.” 

Alana places a hand over his. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now. But as much as you are welcome in London, I would suggest that you return to the States soon. There’s no way to be certain, but the people that want to harm my family could very well have you in their crosshairs now.” She forces Will to meet her gaze, her eyes serious. “The man who stabbed you, his name is Abel Gideon. He’s a hired assassin associated with more than a few bad actors that won’t take your interference lightly either. Gideon is in our custody now thanks to you, but that doesn’t mean we should let our guard down.” 

As she stands to leave she hands him a note on thick cardstock, the texture smooth between his fingers. A phone number and email address were written beside a name in elaborate handwriting. 

“I’ll let you rest and think about it for now. Please reach out if you need me, Will Graham. I’ll be in touch.” 

Will is left alone with his thoughts and the beeping of the machines. He sighs, holding his face in his hands as he waffles on a deliberation before biting the bullet. Will reaches for his phone, which someone had thoughtfully plugged in to charge at his bedside, and dials his sister’s number. 

She picks up on the third ring. “Will?” 

He smiles lightly, hearing his nephew Wally wail at something in the background. 

“Hi, Molly. Listen, I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while. Something happened in London and I’m stuck in the hospital for a few weeks, but I’ll be ok.” 

He listens to Molly fret over the phone as he explains the incident that landed him in the hospital. They make tentative plans for him to return to the U.S, should his recovery go smoothly. Will had no work lined up for the next month anyway. He had been on an extended vacation in London and had been staying at a cheap hostel off his savings. The benefit of not being tied to anything for too long meant it was easy to leave on a moment's notice. Despite Alana’s invasiveness, it would be stupid to ignore her warning. 

He had much to think about. 

*

Alana dials a number with a U.S extension as she leaves the hospital. She waits to be patched through and after a while, a deep voice joins the call. 

“Dr. Bloom. This should be interesting.”

“Good evening, Sergeant Crawford. There’s a homeland subject I have a vested interest in coming your way, that you may want to get your hands on. His name is Will Graham.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been rewatching Hannibal since it came to Netflix and my renewed Hannigram interest inspired me to give birth to this fic idea I’ve had for some time. Comments, feedback, and suggestions are always welcome :)
> 
> The title and summary hint at what is to come. Will add tags as chapters are added to avoid spoilers. This will be a slow burn Hannigram AU - with a twist.


End file.
